


So You Found a Girl

by test_kard_girl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: femslash100, Drabble, F/F, Friendship, Hogwarts, Post-Half-Blood Prince, Pre-Femslash, drabbletag, hogwarts bathrooms are poorly maintained, some girls just like werewolves okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 12:36:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11828886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/test_kard_girl/pseuds/test_kard_girl
Summary: A fill for an old prompt forFemslash100 Drabbletagthat asked forTonks/Fleur: Pink. Mostly pre-femslash. A little tender moment between two girls with werewolf-ish boyfriends.





	So You Found a Girl

  
Fleur leans her head back, slowly, blinking up at the spiders and mildewed cornices of the bathroom ceiling.  
  
"...Ee makes leetle snuffling noises when 'ee sleeps...' She offers quietly. 'This ees new."  
  
Tonks presses her lips together.  
  
She doesn't know what to say. Of all the people she expected to find holed up in Hogwarts' grotty bathrooms, Fleur Delacour was so far down the list she may as well have been Godric Gryffindor. And anyway...Tonks hasn't had the opportunity to fall asleep beside the warm body of her fiance yet. Mostly, theirs has been a relationship of shared grieving and hissed arguments in the hallways of other people's homes and (privately) Tonks isn't sure werewolves-- or aurors for that matter--respond particularly well to domestication.  
  
Fleur will fare better, she thinks. Together, Fleur and Bill seems capable of pretty much everything. Just _look at them_ , for goodness' sake.

  
She tilts her head, scratches at the side of her nose with a fingernail.  
"Nah. That's nothing. I mean it's... Snoring, that's all that is.'  
  
'...Yes.'  
  
Fleur turns her head and Tonks feels a tug in her stomach that she shouldn't feel; that she shouldn't be _letting_ herself feel, now of all days, with the man she loves waiting for her outside on this horrifically, horrifically gorgeous summer afternoon, with all those kids in their best robes: black ravens crowding a white coffin; Dumbledore fresh in the ground.  
  
A minute slips past. There's a tap dripping somewhere. A cold _plink_  against porcelain.  
  
The other woman reaches up; ruffles the top of Tonks' hair: "Zis is also new, ah?"  
  
Her smile is tired but genuine, and when she drops her hand it's a comforting brush against Tonks' sleeve.  
  
"Yeah," Tonks pushes an eye-wateringly pink curl behind her ear. "it does that. I dunno why the pink, but--"  
  
"--Far better than the brown." Fleur continues decisively. "This? More for your skintone. Eet is good you did not want to be with Bill, the red 'air and this pink? No, it would not go."  
  
Despite herself, Tonks laughs. "No, it... No it, really wouldn't, not at all..." She leans her head back against the wall, beside Fleur's froth of silver gold. After a few moments of stillness, she notices the warmth of the other woman's hand still resting against her arm.  
  
She swallows, hard.  
  
They've faced each other over Molly Weasley's kitchen table so many times this year. Tonks is kind of ashamed to realise how the Weasley kids' teasing has convinced her Fleur is somehow some kind of rival when she isn't. Not at all.  
  
"...Your boyfriend's a werewolf."  
  
Tonks mouth curves into a weak smile. Yes. Yes he is. She shrugs: "Least he's not ginger."  
  
Contrary to everything Tonks ever expected of Fleur Delacour, the other woman gives a snort of laughter. Then, somehow, she's leaning over, cool palm pressed to Tonks' knee and their lips meet; a brief moment of warmth.  
  
Instinctively, Tonks covers Fleur's fingers with her own, breathing in the scent of her, something sharp and discomfiting. Something _other_ ; a niggling _inhumaness_  that makes Tonks' stomach clench like a fist.  
When they part, Fleur does not untangle their fingers.  
  
"We will be okay, yes?" She says quietly "This 'ees a fight we will win." She squeezes Tonks' hand surprisingly fiercely "Hold love close. Hope always."  
  
Tonks stares at her. This young woman -- younger than her, bloody hell-- silvery hair cascading over her shoulder and heart banging so hard with fear and sadness and _hope_  Tonks can feel it vibrating through the floor. Making the walls shake.  
  
She nods, tinily.  
  
It sounds like something Dumbledore would say.


End file.
